It Started with a Kiss
by Jemmiah
Summary: The road to the infirmary is paved with good intentions...


**It started with a kiss**

**By Jemmiah**

Author's note: An-Paj belongs to Jane Jinn. The 'event' refered to describes the infamous Jedi cantina crawl that appears in 'A Night to (almost) Remember'.

* * *

It started with a kiss.

Nothing wrong with kissing. I'm not anti-kissing myself, you understand…it's something I have had a fair bit of experience with over the years. Nothing wrong with a little innocent fun either. The problem is that the fun tends to escalate into something a little more, well…problematic.

The following is an extract from my journal, recounting the whole sorry event.

Eyes meet across a crowded room. Then after a moment of hesitation, with hearts pounding violently and blood roaring in the ears, one nervous padawan steps up to his intended partner, the steady pulsing of the veins in his neck betraying his feelings. His associate, ever so more experienced in all matters, eyes him with the coolness of a Bantha looking down upon a Jawa from a great, imperious height. There's a brief, disdainful flick of long golden hair as the master awaits the attentions of her would-be suitor. For his part the padawan approaches with the air of a condemned man, determined to put off the moment of execution until the last available moment. Sweaty hands are subconsciously wrung.

He stands now, in a rather un-Jedi-like panic, trembling like a Nerf at the slaughter house…until the master takes fate into her own hands and grabs the poor, frightened padawan by the ears. His braid seems to stand to rigidly attention through pure shock. And I, as his master, am forced to watch as my padawan is thus dishonoured by a woman with a reputation that would make a brothel keeper blush. Do I do anything to help? Do I offer any assistance, or any words to calm my apprentice's fear?

Actually, no. I'm too busy laughing if I'm honest.

The highlight of the game undoubtedly arrives when a rather tall, distinguished master (who shall remain nameless) is coerced into kissing a young lady who, for reasons we'd best not go into, is deemed most unsuitable. There are a lot of groans to be heard (not from the two participants, it must be stressed) from around the room, especially from the master's padawan who is standing watching as if transfixed by a horrific speeder smash, unable to move. The lips touch, the master's neck bending gently downward so as to reach his much shorter partner. Fascinated padawans and knights look on at the scene as the young lady instinctively places her hands behind the master's back.

Some of the reactions of mild disgust coupled with outright confusion are understandable. The young lady looks far too much as if she is enjoying herself, to what end I couldn't say. To torment the recipient of her true affections? Or perhaps out of genuine curiosity, or sheer devilment? Hormones and excitement, two things that the Jedi generally frown upon are, in the case of the Corellian female and the watching padawans, flying unguarded all over the place. I can see that for a brief moment the master has forgotten exactly who he is kissing as, momentarily, the clinch intensifies…and then hurriedly he breaks the spell and pulls away.

Just as well, given the strange looks he is being treated to, not least from his padawan.

A pity, really. I was rather enjoying watching the young man squirming uncomfortably from foot to foot, not to mention the ribald remarks being whispered down the line of participants. Sal-Fina looks almost as ill as my padawan was when he had to kiss her…

The master apologises profusely, thoroughly ashamed. The young lady however will have none of it and shrugs it aside as if of no consequence. She looks rather happy, to be honest, as if she knows she's given the temple gossips a new topic of conversation. The female Jedi are all clapping and cheering: much less disturbed by the scene as their male counterparts. All I am left to wonder is who precisely the master thought he was kissing when his mind began to focus not so much on the moment but dwelling instead perhaps upon the future…

The merriment continues and the illicit clinch rapidly forgotten in light of new combatants stepping up to take the field. Holocams are waved shamelessly in the faces of those still waiting their turn: some with trepidation and others with considerable anticipation. Many, many kisses are exchanged along the way, from knight to padawan, padawan to master, and master to knight. It's a wonder there are any fully functioning tongues left at the end of proceedings. Judging by the look of disgust on Simeon's face it appears that Sal-Fina has swallowed his…

There. That, then, is my report of the evening's proceedings. Does that suitably paint the picture for you?

I've heard of some novel ways of fundraising in my time but this one just takes the proverbial cake! I thought the custard-wrestling incident was bad last year but really, whoever thought this one up has managed to out-do themselves…

It was all supposed to be good-intentioned, well meaning, harmless fun. It ended up being all of these things except for the harmless part. Feelings ran high after the last of the lipstick was being wiped away. In a certain well-documented case there were a few punches thrown, the odd bone broken and a small amount of tears shed. But as it transpired the assaults and insults was not the only consequence of the evening's festivities, for it would appear that perhaps one or two of those who were tempted to take part in the lip-locking session had not led as pure and as clean an existence as perhaps could be hoped for.

Not that anyone was looking to pin the blame on Master Fin-Tial. Not at all…

Yes, it all started with a kiss. That's why I, An-Paj super healer, am writing a report to the council explaining precisely why a quarter of the Jedi population are currently suffering from a nasty case of the 'kissing disease'!


End file.
